A Vineyard White Christmas

by Katie Winters

  Mike.

  The man was now middle-aged. It was strange to see him: the same anger permeated through the back of his eyes, but his skin had brewed up a healthy round of wrinkles, and his cheeks sagged just the slightest bit. He was still strong, muscular but not exactly the kind of guy Andrew had punched all those years ago. He wore a beautiful suit that told the world just how important he was.

  “Hey babe,” Kelli said.

  Another Christmas song began on the Bluetooth. Mike looked at the Bluetooth speaker like he wanted to order it to be burned.

  “What’s all this?” he asked.

  “Just a dance party,” Lexi said. She had lost all the spark she’d had previously; she looked at her father like he had more power than he deserved.

  “Is there any chowder left?” Mike asked.

  “Of course,” Kelli replied. She snapped into action. In seconds, some of the delicious soup was in a bowl, turning round and round in the microwave.

  As the microwave roared, Steve, Laura, Gail, Rachel, and Lexi abandoned the kitchen. Andrew couldn’t find an escape, and Michael blocked his way. Claire remained, tilting her weight from side-to-side like she wanted to say something but didn’t have the strength.

  “Hey Mike,” Andrew said. He was surprised that he’d been the first to say anything.

  When Mike lifted his eyes to Andrew’s, he felt it: the memory of the last time they’d seen one another. Mike still hated him for it. The anger remained in the air between them.

  “Hey Andy,” he said flatly.

  “The girls taught their Uncle Andy one of their famous dances,” Kelli said. Her voice was as bright as it could be, and it sounded terribly false in Andrew’s ears. “They think he’s their secret to going viral.”

  Mike didn’t bother to answer. The microwave beeped, and Kelli stirred up the chowder before she passed it over to her husband. He didn’t thank her before he stalked out of the room to eat in front of the game.

  Anxiously, Kelli grabbed a cookie from the tray and nibbled at the edge. She then wandered out of the room after him, leaving a Kelli-sized hole in Andrew’s heart all over again.

  Andrew’s eyes found Claire’s immediately. She shook her head delicately as she stepped toward him. With a cookie in her hand, she whispered, “I really haven’t seen much of Kelli lately.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She keeps her distance these days,” Claire said. “Mike’s pissed almost everyone off in the family, and I think it embarrasses her that she’s stuck around this long. I’ve only talked to her about it a handful of times. Each time, she deflected as best as she could. You know how we in the Montgomery family are Olympic deflectors.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Andrew said with a heavy sigh. “I just would have thought, after all this time, she would have found a way out.”

  “Time is a strange thing,” Claire said. “I have to think it went like this. She was in her late twenties. She had three very young children. After a fight between her little brother and her husband, her little brother took off and went to war. The whole thing devastated her and she blames herself for it. I think she wanted to prove it to herself that she had done the right thing, but the guilt has destroyed her.”

  Andrew shook his head as devastation clouded his vision. “I never wanted her to live like that and it’s not her fault I left.”

  “She never wanted you to live the way you did, either. But now, we’re here together. Maybe we can pick up the pieces as we go,” Claire returned.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Later that week, Beth received word that Trevor Montgomery would begin physical therapy with her over the next few days. She hovered over the pot of macaroni and cheese she had cooked up for Will as her heart pounded. This physical therapy was the sort of task she had done countless times. The joy that came with giving someone their freedom back after an accident was the kind of joy that gave you wings. In this case, however, the stakes felt terribly high. She couldn’t make any kind of mistake. It was for Andrew. It was for Kerry. It was for Steve and Kelli and Charlotte and Claire. But most of all, it was for their shared past, the sights and sounds they had all experienced together, and the fact that once upon a time, they’d all known Kurt when he was alive.

  The morning of Trevor’s first physical therapy session started out like any other. Little Will scrambled into the kitchen with his shirt on both inside-out and backward. After he fixed it himself, he sat for a plate of eggs, turkey bacon, and toast, which Beth tried to cook up for him every morning, as she knew it helped his anxiety ten-fold if he had something good in his belly. Then, they gathered up his homework assignments, his books, and the one toy he was allowed to bring to school before they stuffed themselves in their coats and rushed off into the chilly morning.

  As there was a bit of extra time, Beth decided to park in the lot near the school and walk her son to the front door. He didn’t require it, not at eight, but she always took pleasure in it: the sounds of their feet crunching through the snow and the chill of the air against her cheeks. He told her wonderful things about a new dinosaur he liked, and she listened intently. She needed to remember it for next time, whether that next time be tomorrow or three years from now.

  When they were no more than fifteen yards from the front door of the school, a snowball smacked across Will’s stomach. The whack was a hard one, the kind that left a red mark. Beth’s eyes found the perpetrator immediately: a kid in one of the other classes who sometimes liked to tease Will because of his autism.

  Panic overwhelmed Beth, although she knew better than to show it. Will’s face crumpled up as Beth fell to her knees to whisper to him. “It’s okay! He’s playing with you,” she tried. All the while, the young boy’s laughter rang out like a horrible chorus.

  “No, he’s not,” Will wailed.

  “Baby, it’s okay.” She held him tightly against her and placed her chin on his shoulder as he shook. She held him like that until the kid got bored and paraded into the school with his other friends. She held him like that long-after the line of parent-drop-off had receded and minutes after the first bell had sounded. It became clear that Will wouldn’t enter the school that day; she had to make alternate plans.

  Unfortunately, when she called her usual babysitter, she found that the poor girl had a horrible case of bronchitis. Her back-up babysitter was off the island looking at colleges, so now this left Beth in a pickle. So, she’d decided to bring Will with her to the hospital. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to do it.

  Beth and Will Leopold entered the breakroom down the hall from the physical therapy room. They unzipped their coats and removed their hats, and stuffed all their belongings in Beth’s little locker. Ellen entered as they performed this routine, placed her hand on her waist, and said, “Well, look who we have here? Is that William Leopold?”

  Will turned and delivered an adorable grin to Ellen, one of his favorite people in the world. “Hello, Ellen,” he said. “Good morning to you.”

  “And a good morning to you, sir,” Ellen replied.

  Ellen gave Beth a curious glance, to which Beth just shrugged. Obviously, he’d struggled with school that morning. Obviously, they’d had to make other arrangements. As a mother of an autistic child, she’d had to learn how to innovate.

  “What’s your schedule today, Beth?” Ellen asked.

  “I have Trevor Montgomery in an hour or so,” Beth returned.

  Ellen’s eyes turned toward Will. “I don’t think many nurses will be in the breakroom today. You might have to set old William up in the little room alongside the therapy room. The one with the glass walls.”

  “Not a problem,” Beth said, even as her heart jumped into her throat. “We brought your iPad, didn’t we, bud? And you can just sit and play your games and read your book.”

  Beth had invested in a series of educational games for just these moments when she couldn’t get Will to go to school, but she still wanted to broaden his mind. Will was a
smart kid, perhaps too smart, and he took to language and words and mathematics with zeal. It was just people he had trouble with.

  An hour later, Beth set Will up in the little side room alongside the physical therapy room. As the nurse wheeled in Trevor Montgomery, Will crossed his legs beneath him in the chair and brought up his favorite spelling game on his iPad. He shooed his mother out of the room as he said, “I have to practice spelling now, Mommy. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

  “Okay, baby,” Beth said softly as she turned back toward the bigger room. Slowly, she clipped the door closed behind her, grateful that he seemed much calmer now than he had been.

  Beth greeted Trevor’s nurse and took the clipboard from her, which revealed an analysis of the drugs he’d been on, and what had happened thus far, that sort of thing. Although he had broken his arm, his legs were just tight and battered and bruised, and he needed assistance finding strength again. As he was up there in years, there was the possibility that he wouldn’t walk properly for a few months or more.

  “Hey there, Mr. Montgomery,” Beth said, her voice as friendly and open as she could make it. “I heard a rumor around here that you took quite a tumble.”

  “That’s one way to put it,” Mr. Montgomery said. His smile was infectious. One of his large hands tapped at the bandage, still wrapped around his head. “I’m just glad I still got the old thinker going. Sharp as a knife.”

  “They can’t take you down that easily,” Beth said.

  “That’s right.”

  Beth started Trevor out as easily as she could. They performed stretches together and talked about his limitations and where he should push himself over the next few days. “You have to learn how to recognize the difference between strain and pain,” Beth told him. “A tiny bit of strain is okay; if the pain becomes like flashes of light, then you know you’re taking it too far.”

  Trevor nodded, then asked appropriate questions, and remained genuine and focused until his time came to an end. Throughout the session, Beth managed, somehow, to forget Andrew Montgomery and remained wholly in her role as a rehabilitation nurse.

  It was only when Trevor turned his eyes toward the adjoining room, spotted Will on his iPad, and asked, “What is that young boy doing here?” that Beth began to crumble with emotion.

  “He’s my son,” she said. Her voice sounded choked up. “He had a little bit of a problem this morning. The real world seemed a little too mean. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to go to school today, so he’s doing his own learning here. He’s terribly good at teaching himself.”

  “We all could take a page out of his book,” Trevor affirmed. “I think one of the most important things in this life is being able to teach yourself.”

  Beth’s smile grew wider. “He asks some of the wildest and most introspective questions I’ve heard in my life. I think he’s about fifty times smarter than I am. There are just some things he can’t handle.”

  Trevor nodded contemplatively. It was clear he had a great deal on his mind. His free hand hovered over the wheel of his wheelchair as he said, “I think my own son, Andy, had some trouble with the real world, too. I didn’t know how to help him.”

  Beth stopped breathing altogether. Trevor’s eyes remained toward the ground, as though if he looked at Beth as he told her, the words would be too heavy.

  “Kerry told me he’s in town,” Trevor continued. “I scared him away seventeen years ago if you can believe it. That’s about half his life that I’ve missed, just because I had all these opinions about the way he was supposed to be, the way he needed to live his life. I’m so surprised he’s in town. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if he already ran off the island. Why would he want to mess around with an old man like me? I have nothing to offer him.”

  Beth remained frozen. She knew she had to say something—something to help repair this father-son relationship, one that had started off a mess and remained one until Andrew had abandoned it altogether.

  “The point is, you’re doing a good job with your son. You recognize his needs. You seem to know how to help him become the kind of man he’s meant to be,” Trevor continued. “On my end of things, I think it might be too late.”

  Beth’s voice crackled. “I don’t think it’s too late.”

  Trevor gave a sad shrug. “It depends, doesn’t it? Right now, I’m stuck in the hospital for a few more days. I have no way of knowing what’s up in that kid’s mind. He always seemed to hate me. I always felt that when he looked at me, he saw a monster.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Andrew’s phone reflected back the date and time: December 15. 7:46 in the morning. He rubbed his eyes with chapped hands and blinked at the grey light that hovered over him. He had slept in his childhood bedroom, just as he’d done the night before that, and the feel of it, the familiarity of it, still shocked him. He had a funny instinct to put on a Blink-182 song, run his fingers through his hair, and head off to high school. He could still hear it: the screech of his locker, the yelp of the girls as they gossiped their way to class, the intercom announcements: Today’s lunch is hotdogs, hamburgers and French fries. Yippee.

  But no. He was thirty-five years old. He could feel it in his bones, in the strange jump of his right leg, in the haze of his head. He placed his feet on the ground beside the bed and rubbed his temples. Time to get up and, what? Spend another day in the shadows of his family house? Try and fail yet again to force himself up to the hospital to speak to his father? His mother had come home only a handful of times, each time to grab a shower or a change of clothes or a book his father had requested. “He can’t even focus on the words, but he keeps planning on trying again,” she’d informed him.

  Andrew padded downstairs. He expected to find a creaking, empty house, but when he appeared in the kitchen, he found Kelli seated at the table, her shoulders hunched and her face pale and morose. There was a cup of coffee in front of her. It no longer looked warm or even appetizing.

  “Kelli,” Andrew said. “Hey.”

  Kelli grimaced. “Hey.”

  Andrew wasn’t sure what to say. Had she slept at the house that night? Had something happened between her and Mike? Was this a common occurrence?

  Andrew brewed another cup of coffee. Wordlessly, he poured out Kelli’s cold cup and refilled it with a warm brew. He also added just a touch of milk before he placed it in front of her again. She shook her head slightly and said, “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that. I totally spaced for a second.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he told her as he returned to sit beside her. He sipped his own cup of coffee and watched as her face changed. Her eyes began to lighten.

  “I have something for you. For us,” she said as she jumped to her feet. She reached into the cabinet and drew out a box of Lucky Charms, their old favorite snack. With a flourish, she poured them both heaping bowls and then added just the right amount of milk.

  “I see you haven’t forgotten the perfect Lucky Charms recipe,” he told her with a sly grin.

  “You think I could forget that? We had that down to a science,” she told him.

  They lifted their bowls and clinked them together. “Cheers,” they said in unison, which made them fall into fits of laughter.

  “I remember when I introduced you to this stuff,” Kelli said as she chewed on the sugary-tart mallows. “I used to sneak them in so that Mom couldn’t see. We’d eat and watch cartoons and call it our secret.”

  “I remember,” Andrew said. “Maybe that’s where I first started to go wrong. My love for Lucky Charms pushed me down a dark road.”

  Kelli laughed. “I don’t know about that. If you look at any of our lives too closely, it’s clear that none of us have any of this figured out.”

  As the marshmallows disintegrated in the milk, Andrew placed his spoon to the side, folded his hands, and said, “Kelli, you know you can talk to me about anything, right? I’m not a teenager anymore.”

  Kelli bit hard on her lower lip, so hard t
hat a small droplet of blood oozed down. She hurriedly wiped at it with part of her napkin.

  “I know that,” she breathed. “Honestly, I planned to sneak out of here before you woke up.”

  “You thought you could leave me to eat Lucky Charms alone?” Andrew asked with a laugh.

  “I guess that would have been unfair,” Kelli said. “It’s just me and Mike keep getting into it. He’s gotten somehow crueler since Josh and Sam moved out. Lexi’s normally busy with friends, and Mike only has me there to rip into. He doesn’t treat me like a human any longer. Maybe he never did.” She paused and took a small sip of her coffee.

  “In any case, I’ve tried to hide it from Steve, Claire and Charlotte as best as I can. Mom doesn’t know I stayed the night last night. That’s maybe the worst part of all of this. I always wanted to be like Mom and Dad. In sickness and in health, as they’re showing us now—through everything. I wanted my marriage to be together until the end. I just don’t know how to move forward with him. Especially now that you’re back and all these memories are...”

  She trailed off as she rubbed her temples. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to bring up all the bad blood between us. It’s poisonous to look at it too long.”

  “No. It stands to reason that me coming back would affect all of you. It’s selfish of me to think about how hard it is on me and me alone,” Andrew said.

  Kelli sighed. “There you go again.”

  “What?”

  “You always seem to see everything so clearly,” she said. “I always thought that was why you had to leave the Vineyard. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore. You wanted to know what else was out there.

  “Yeah, this island can be filled with lies sometimes. Aunt Anna cheating on Wes all those years ago? And then her death on the boat with her lover? That was hidden for years and we had no idea. It’s like, on the Vineyard, we’re so ready to pretend to be something we’re not. Me, the perfect wife, mother, sister and daughter. In actuality, I was hardly the perfect mother, and I have a loveless and verbally abusive marriage.”